The Sorting Hat, Traumatized
by silveryswirls
Summary: A peek inside the heads of the first years. When the first one gets a song stuck in the poor Hat's head, all the first years suffer.
1. A Girl Who Gets On Everybody's Nerves

_Random strange idea I had. Long name at the end got me up to 1000 words.  
_

Even though he had no lungs, the Sorting Hat managed to sigh dolefully. One must ask the first-years present at the time whether the sigh was actually audible or not; after all, you know, hats don't always express their emotions aloud.

Another year of students. The same old "GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR GRYFFINDOR, PLEASE, I'M BEGGING YOU!" or "If you don't stick me in Slytherin, I'll sic my house elf on you!" The former were usually stuck in Hufflepuff for being so darn annoying and wimpy; the latter were always stuck in Slytherin. It wasn't that the Hat thought he should cater to the whims of spoiled, stuck-up purebloods; he just thought that they shouldn't infect the other students with prejudiced stupidity.

Yet it wasn't that bad. Each year, there were first-years who were particularly creative and brilliant, and as the Hat could read their thoughts, he was always delighted to find these people. Thinking over the knowledge he had gleaned from their minds, he would somehow manage to amuse himself for the year until the next sorting. This alone had kept him sane over the past thousand years.

Of course, sanity is fleeting. The Hat feared this possibility as he glanced around the room. There were no apparent geniuses in the room: some first-years twirled their hair; others smacked Drooble's Best-Blowing Gum, spreading blue bubbles throughout the room. Oh no...was that girl humming?

Professor McGonagall unrolled the parchment as the noise in the Great Hall died out. "Annily, Lorelei," the grim, bespectacled woman called.

To the horror of the Hat, the humming girl bounced towards him. She grinned at him before the professor placed him on her head. And so it began...he could hear her thoughts.

_Hi, Mr. Sorting Hat! I'm Lori! Er, do you have another name I can call you? Mr. Sorting Hat sounds kind of awkward._

_"No--" _the hat attempted to answer, but the girl rambled on in her head.

_Reminds me of when I was home schooled by my parents before coming here. I wanted to call my mum "Professor Mother", but she told me to shut up and get back to my algebra, or else I'd never pass arithmancy when I get to that. I told her I didn't want to take arithmancy. I want to take Muggle Studies and Runes instead. You know what mothers are like. "What can you do with Muggle Studies? Go into Muggle Relations or something? At least take subjects you can do something with!" So I told her that runes were very useful, since you could read them upside down and turn your enemies' ears into kumquats! I think it was then that she broke down and started crying. Mothers do cry a lot, don't they? Hey, have you ever had a vampire go through Hogwarts?_

Speaking of crying, the Hat felt like doing so. _"No, we haven't. They usually get bitten after they leave school anyway. Er, why do you ask?" _He realized too late that he should not have asked this.

_Well, I was wondering what would happen if they cried. After all, they don't drink water. Does blood run out of their tear ducts instead? That would be interesting to see. I wonder if it gets boring, just drinking blood. Maybe different types of blood are like different types of drinks for us. Like AB would be firewhiskey--really strong. A would be butterbeer. B would be...I don't know, hot chocolate or something. Sugar high. And of course, O negative would be water. Hmm, I wonder what O positive would be, then. Water with a lemon slice on the edge of a glass? I can just see a few vampires walking into a blood bank. "Bartender, AB for all of us!" "Well, an O for me; I'm the designated apparater. Oh, what the hell, throw in the Rh factor and make it an O positive."_

_Do you think there are vampire animals?_ She plowed ahead without waiting for an answer. _After all, why would there be a humanoid version and not an animal...oid...one? There's this Muggle book I read a few years ago called Bunnicula. It's a vampire bunny, but instead of sucking blood, it sucks juice from vegetables. Now, why would anyone want to do that? I mean, jeez, vegetables are gross! I hope they're not enforced in our cafeteria diet. As has been said quite often, that's not food! That's what food eats! Of course, I won't say no to some chocolate cake. My sister had the chocolatiest cake for her birthday last month. She invited all the fifth-year girls, and even some booooooys. There was this one she seemed to be pretty good "friends" with. Euan Abercrombie. Oh! Small world! There he is over there, in Gryffindor! Hey, that reminds me of a song I heard when I went on a trip two summers ago to Florida! Of course, I didn't catch all the lyrics then, but I liked it so much that I looked up the lyrics! "It's a world of laughter, a world of tears, it's a world of hopes, it's a world of fears, there's so much that we share, that it's time we're aware it's a small world after all! It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a--"_

He could not take it anymore. Someone this evil had to belong in--"SLYTHERIN!" The girl pouted and hopped off the stool, handing him back to Professor McGonagall.

Lorelei. The German siren who sang sailors to their doom.

How extremely apt.

For the damage was done. The Hat stood--sat--uh...was located?--shaking as much as a hat possibly can. His mind was devoid of any true thought; all that remained was "IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL..."

But he had to continue.

"Thomas Andre Quentin Earl Marcellus Zeus Robert Cameron Christian Arturo Lobachevsky Azenin...the eighth..."


	2. Not So Pureblood After All

_"Thomas Andre Quentin Earl Marcellus Zeus Robert Cameron Christian Arturo Lobachevsky Azenin...the eighth..."_

It was a familiar name to the Sorting Hat. After all, Thomas Andre Quentin...er, etc...was the eighth in a line of snobs named Thomas. And five snobs of that name preceded him at Hogwarts.

No one knew how Thomas managed it--he just had a natural, possibly genetic, talent--but he sat sullenly in the chair, yet with impossibly perfect posture. The Hat hadn't liked any of his predecessors, but he was at least glad to have something to talk about with the boy. (Something besides vampires' beverage orders.) The Azenins had all been Slytherins...even TAQEMZRCCALA the third, who knew perfectly well he didn't technically belong but never let on.

These thoughts ran in the Sorting Hat's figurative head as rather background processes. One thought and one thought only dominated the Sorting Hat's mind, and that was an astute observation of the surprisingly diminutive state of our planet.

To a very annoying tune.

Then the Hat was placed on the boy's head, and instantly, more thought processes began.

_All right, Hat, just do it and do it quickly. I'm going to be a Sly--are you HUMMING?_

_"Sorry," _the hat replied, still singing "Small World" in the depths of his mind. _"The last girl got it stuck in my head, and I can't get it out!"_

_I can see why, _Thomas replied after a moment. _Very...catchy tune. In the sense that it holds your brain prisoner and won't let it go._

_"Precisely my problem."_

_Mine too, now. It's in my head!_

_"I apologize again. Although trust me, that poor girl did a lot more to me than sing that horrid song in her head."_

_Is that my problem?_

_"No, of course not! But I could teach you the words to the song."_

_All right, all right! _Thomas thought frantically. _You've made your point!_

_"If you think I'm going to let you off easy, think again! The author is trying to satisfy a quota of a thousand words a chapter!"_

_W...what? What author?_

_"IT'S A WORLD OF LAUGHTER, A WORLD OF TEARS--"_

_I'm sorry, I'm sorry! _The boy begged hurriedly. _Please, I just want you to sort me--_

_"IT'S A WORLD OF HOPES, IT'S A WORLD OF FEARS--" _

_Really, truly, I am!_

_"But we haven't even gotten to the chorus! I can't stop now! THERE'S SO MUCH THAT WE SHARE, THAT IT'S TIME WE'RE AWARE IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL! IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL, IT'S A SMALL WORLD AFTER ALL--_" the Hat suddenly cut off, confused. _"Well, gosh darn it. She didn't get past that part."_

_It's all right, _Thomas reassured him quickly. _I won't die of suspense from never knowing those last few lines. _

_"Well, if you're sure. Now, onto the sorting." _The Hat, again, had never liked any of the previous Azenins, and he didn't plan to start now. He planned to make this as painful as possible for the boy. (Okay, he planned to continue making this as painful as possible for him.) After all, at least Thomas didn't have to suffer through the minds of forty first years! In the poor Hat's mind, that dratted boy had it easy. _"Where to put you...where to put you..."_

_I'm a Slytherin, you nitwit! How can you possibly even consider it as otherwise?  
_

_"Ah, just like your dear father. I remember the day he put me on. And when your grandfather was sorted, too. And all the way back to Thomas Andre Quentin Earl Marcellus Zeus Robert Cameron Christian Arturo Lobachevsky Azenin--"_

Thomas nodded, nearly knocking the Hat off his head.

_"--the third."_

Thomas leapt off his chair in anger. "WHAT?" he shouted aloud. "All of the Azenins have gone to Hogwarts! Our blood is entirely pure! We can trace it--"

"Mr. Azenin!" Professor McGonagall snapped in shock, holding the parchment to her chest. "Kindly sit back on the stool and proceed with the Sorting, or risk detention _on your first day_! And I am prepared to do worse!"

_The Weasley twins quit school years ago, Professor, _the Hat thought, amused. _There's not much you can threaten him with other than getting them to take care of him! Although Filch might help._

Thomas glared at her and opened his mouth to retort, then shut it and sat down in a huff. _Stupid effing hat...telling me that my family didn't all go here..._

_"I'm still on your head, Thomas."_

_I know. You were supposed to hear that._

_"How can you berate me for telling you the truth? I am right, you know. I've sorted every Hogwarts student in the past thousand years, and Mr. Azenin the third was the first one I ever sorted. Trust me, I wouldn't forget a name like that."_

Thomas's brain opened its mouth (you know what I mean) in preparation for a retort, but the hat shut it up with his next words. _"From what I've heard, Azenin the second attended Durmstrang instead, in his days in Eastern Europe."_

Thomas smiled smugly. _Well, of course, then. We're still as--_

_"Although from the other rumors I heard, he moved here after school because the other students made fun of him for having a muggle father._"

The "pureblood"'s eyes narrowed. _Why, you little--_

"SLYTHERIN!" Thomas was unable to finish that thought, as Professor McGonagall plucked the Hat off his head. He slunk over to the Slytherin table irritably.

If only the Hat had a tongue. He could have protruded it in the direction of that dratted boy.

And furthermore, if only the distraction had erased the song from their minds. That is correct: the tally was three. Lorelei continued to hum it at the Slytherin table as Thomas glared at her but eventually submitted to humming along.

And it would take quite a long time to erase it from Mr. Sorting Hat's mind.


	3. Fairy Poo

_Lady: Have you read my mind? Cough, cough, evil grin._

_Something I've forgotten: disclaimer. I DON'T HAVE A HAT THIS COOL. If I did, I'd be off torturing it with the evil that is my not so K+ mind._

The professor grimly called up another student, hoping this time the sorting would proceed more quickly. (McGonagall was far more of an optimist than she let on.) "Saturna Blimey!"

All activity ceased in the room as students from all houses swivelled to get a better look. The student answered the call, her raven bangs falling over her mischievous amethyst eyes as she glided gracefully to the stool. Her serene sangfroid, however, could not mask the bruises along the crook where her neck met her shoulders. She had clearly been sculpted as a Mary Sue. As the Hat was placed on her head, however, he realized that looks could be, and were, deceiving; the one who had created her looks had plainly not collaborated with the one who had molded her mind.

_Hey, Hat._

_"It's a world of--oh! Sorry. Hi."_

_Oh, you're singing Small World! I'm betting Lori got it stuck in your head. It's not like Azenin over there would know about a Muggle thing like Disney._

_"Fortunately, she never finished singing it; she only got halfway through the refrain. Although it's actually almost driving me nuts that I have to hum the last lines in my head, since it's stuck in there like glue."_

_Really? Let me finish it for you. It's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small world after all, it's a small, small world!_

_"Thanks."_

_No problem. I don't mind having it stuck in my head. Better than "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love". Celestina Warbeck really needs to learn to steady her vibrato and write better metaphors. Well, let's get started with this sorting, shall we?_

_"Certainly," _the Hat replied before she could start thinking about the Celestina Warbeck song, which he _really_ did not want stuck in his head. He proceeded to do its schtick (whatever that means) and dove into the depths of Saturna's brain, expecting, perhaps, a history of poverty and abuse which had failed to break the spirit of the charming, beautiful young Mary Sue she was today.

This was not what he found.

Rather far from being a Mary Sue, she appeared to have grown up in a large, loving wizarding family with a happy life. Unlike her seemingly stoic siblings, however, she had not ended up with much in the way of manners; the Hat saw countless times in which she'd instigated belching contests, taught young children some quite colorful language, and most of all, played pranks on pretty much everyone she'd ever met. The bruises, he discovered, were a result of the temper of an unhappy victim on the receiving end of one of her pranks.

_"Miss Blimey! You transfigured Culan Ogden's shoes into mousetraps?"_

Saturna grinned in response. _And they fit perfectly over those tiny feet of his!_ Then, sobering slightly, she asked, _So you don't just know the words I'm thinking?_

_"That's right. I look at one's past, hopes, dreams...anything of importance in terms of placing someone in the right house. If I miss something, I could infect, say, Ravenclaw with a moron, or Gryffindor with a wimp._"

Saturna's thoughts fell silent for a moment, then began again hesitantly and, for the first time, seriously. _It's just that...uh...you won't make fun of me for any of that or tell anyone else anything, right? Like any former bad habits I had? My lisp? Bed-wetting?_

_"Nah. I only make fun of people like Thomas over there, and they don't even understand that I'm being facetious sometimes." _

Saturna, relieved, cheered up. _Aww, it's no fun when they don't realize you're making fun of them! That's why I'm a firm believer that actions speak louder than words. After all, they're more likely to notice a "diffindo" on the robes than a few insults-in-disguise, right?_

The Hat tried to shake his head but realized he didn't have one. _"You remind me of someone..."_

_James Potter?_

_"No! ...Actually, now that you mention it, him too. But I was thinking of the Weasley twins, Fred and George. You've bought some of their stuff at Weasley Wizarding Wheezes. They were Gryffindors. So was James Potter, come to think of it."_

_Does that mean I'll be a Gryffindor, since everyone like me ended up being there? My mother was a Ravenclaw, but I'm not all that chuffed about studying, so I'm guessing I'm not like her._

_"Nah. I've always thought, afterwards, that I'd somewhat misplaced those twins, but I rather had to place them there. All the Weasleys are Gryffindors. Same with the Potters. But not so with your family! So instead, I think I'll place you in--"_ "SLYTHERIN!" he shouted aloud.

_But my dad's a Muggle! _Saturna thought rapidly, before Professor McGonagall could take off the hat.

_"Yeah, well, so was Tom Riddle's, and Severus Snape's at that. It's a small world, after all!" _Before the young witch could respond, McGonagall plucked the hat off her head in preparation for the next person. Saturna scowled and joined Lorelei at the Slytherin table, to the leering joy of many a Slytherin boy (some of whom could be tagged as pedophiles if they admitted to it).

But not, of course, to the joy of one Mr. Thomas Andre Quentin Earl Marcellus Zeus Robert Cameron Christian Arturo Lobachevsky Azenin. He continued to grimace as Saturna consoled herself with the fact that at least her good friend Lori was with her. The two girls linked arms and grinned, humming that blasted song softly. From across the room, the Hat could hear the two. _"They may end up being as bad as Black and Potter," _he mused.

Then, of course, he got right back to singing "Small World" in his mind.


	4. Viewing Hogwarts In A New Light

_Disclaimer: The amount of spiffiness I possess is immense, yet not nearly enough to own anything from the world of Harry Potter._

_Also, I've just gone back and fixed some errors. I seem to have a problem with my pronouns; sometimes I refer to the Hat as "he" and sometimes as "it". I've fixed as many as I can find, but I doubt I've gotten all of them._

"Aubrey Bloom!" was the next to be sorted.

Oh dear. The girl approaching the stool was one of the ones masticating Drooble's Best-Blowing Gum. A Hufflepuff waiting to happen. But the Hat tried to wipe that thought out of his mind, scolding himself; pre-sorting was unfair, and as an impartial Hat (have you ever met a hat that was biased?), he should not be judging people.

A verse of Small World masked his preconception. Problem solved. Unfortunately, that verse was still bouncing around his mind as the Headmistress placed him on Aubrey's head.

A moment of silence in Aubrey's thoughts. Then--

_Uh...sir...are you humming Small World?_

If the Hat could blush, he would have right then. _"Yes. Sorry about that."_

_But how do you even **know** that song? _she reasoned. _I mean, as a thousand-year-old object bewitched by Godric Gryffindor, having never left the school grounds and having had no exposure to Muggle media, I wouldn't think you'd ever have had the chance to learn it._

_"The first girl got it stuck in my head. Lucky me, right? But you seem to know quite a bit about me. Did your parents educate you about the history of Hogwarts?"_

_No, sir, _the first-year replied. _I'm Muggle-born. I did quite a bit of reading before I came here, though. I wanted to fully research the school before I came here. _She grinned and blew another bubble of gum, as Professor McGonagall looked scandalized. _I also wanted to research the candy, too, although the Every Flavor Beans scared me off a bit._

The Hat was rather surprised. Of course, he didn't want to prejudge anyone, but this girl had most certainly not struck him as Ravenclaw material. Now, though, he reconsidered. _"Do you like to read, then?"_

_Well, yes. But I was mainly reading up on it because it seemed like the perfect setting to write about. I like to write even more than I like to read._

Definitely a Ravenclaw, then. She may have even been the creative genius the Hat looked for every year. Rather than instantly caste-ing (ha) her into her house, he had her stick around so he could talk to her. _"So what types of things do you like to write? Mystery? Adventure?"_

_Actually, fanfiction. It's a Muggle thing--basically, we take the setting and possibly characters in books or television or movies and similar stuff, and we write our own stories about them. We share them on the internet, which is a muggle way of connecting people all over the world through a computer. A computer is a box that people can write on, play games on, and other fun stuff. So, anyway, I was looking for inspiration through Hogwarts. There must be some amazing wizarding stories centered here! I mostly write romance, though, and I didn't really find much of that in the history books, so I've been having to use my imagination instead._

_"Romance, huh?" _the Hat thought to her, grinning as much as a hat can grin. _Good luck with that. There's not much of that floating around here._

_On the contrary, sir! I see many potential relationships around here! Professor McGonagall could be having an affair with Hagrid. She had been secretly in love with Dumbledore and was inconsolable when he passed away, and Hagrid gave her a very large shoulder to cry on._

The Hat attempted to digest this thought, but it was not particularly palatable.

_I can also imagine some of the ghosts in life. The Bloody Baron was killed in a duel trying to save his beloved, and he became a ghost so he could hang around and watch over her. He had his heart broken, even though it had already stopped beating, when she died soon after and did not choose an afterlife with him. So ever since, he's been bitter and thus, evil._

Hmm. Should he tell her that the Bloody Baron had really turned evil because people kept making fun of him for being the only person ever to actually be killed by running with scissors? He was hemophiliac, the poor guy. But once Peeves came to Hogwarts, no one ever mentioned that fact again. If Peeves ever caught wind of that story, he would never again respect the Baron, and Hogwarts would be unable to have any way of keeping the darn poltergeist under control.

_But I think the best pairing of all would be Filch and Madam Pince! After all, they both hate students, from what some of the older kids have told me. I imagine that Filch stopped a fourth-year from dripping mud onto a library book, and Madam Pince heard and was eternally grateful. So one night, she alohomoras herself into his quarters and leaves a trail of strawberries. Needless to say, this almost backfires because he's raging about how he's going to have to clean those up. But he stops caring once he sees her in the tub, covered only by bubbles--_

_"AGGH!" _the Hat screamed silently. _"I did not need those images in my head, thanks very much!"_

_What head? _Aubrey thought crossly. _And anyway, I didn't need Small World stuck in my head, but you did that for me!_

_"The two are NOT comparable in any way. Lorelei got Small World stuck in my head, along with quite a few other thoughts, but I'm quite a bit more traumatized by what you've just made me think! I was going to place you in Ravenclaw, but after that bit of evilness, I think you'd be better suited in--"_

"SLYTHERIN!" he bellowed.


	5. A Brief Intermission

"Is it just me," muttered the young Transfiguration teacher, pushing his dreadlocks out of his eyes to direct his question to another professor, "or is the Sorting taking about ten times as long as it usually does?"

The curly-haired Charms professor, who'd replaced Flitwick after his retirement a few years before, nodded. "It's not just you, Professor Jordan."

"Oh, please, Penelope," he beseeched with a disarming smile. "How many times do I have to ask you to call me Lee?"

She frowned. "Probably the same number of times I have to ask you to call me Professor Clearwater."

----------------------

McGonagall frowned as she lifted the Sorting Hat from Aubrey Bloom's head. "Hat, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"An excellent suggestion, Minerva. I was just about to ask for a well-needed break."

The Headmistress started to put the Hat on her head for the purpose of having a private conversation, but the Hat stopped her. "Trust me, Minnie--" Professor McGonagall frowned at the nickname--"you don't want to know the thoughts that girl just put in my head."

McGonagall paused, then nodded and took him into a corner to have a whispered conversation. "Hat, you know we have a quota to fill. Five per gender per house. Naturally, you need a little leeway, since we clearly can't expect to have the exact right amount of people. But that's four people in Slytherin already! And three of them are female. You only have room for two more Slytherin girls, three tops, and you have seventeen more girls to sort. So I really must ask you to think harder about where to sort these people. If you place the next person in Slytherin, we're going to have to obliviate you or something."

The Hat sighed. "I'll try, Minerva. But...uh...I have a favor to ask. It's going to sound a bit odd, but..."

"What is it?"

"The last girl made me think some thoughts that I really need out of my head before I sort someone else. So...could you put me back on the head of the first girl, Lorelei Annily, for a few minutes?"

McGonagall stared at him, bewildered.

"I just know she'll be able to get those thoughts out of my mind," wheedled the poor Hat.

The Headmistress shrugged. "Okay, as long as you promise me you don't sort the next person into Slytherin."

"Anything for you, Minerva. I promise."

Professor McGonagall took him over to Lorelei, explained the situation, and placed him on her head. She then went up to the front to prepare for the next sorting and sucked in a smile as she read the next name. _I wonder if he'll really keep that promise, then?_

----------------------

Since we're already having an intermission, you may as well get acquainted with the staff. You've already met Lee Jordan and Penelope Clearwater. As you can tell, Penelope was rather annoyed by Lee, mostly because she did not believe it was seemly for a professor to be as hyper and mischievous as he. Needless to say, Lee quite enjoyed irritating her. Let's move on, shall we?

To Jordan's right sat a hulking figure. It's Hagrid. Duh. Moving on. To Hagrid's right sat Sprout and Sinistra, who had become Head of Ravenclaw after Flitwick retired. Next to Sinistra sat a rather sullen Terrence Higgs, who had come to teach Defense Against The Dark Arts after Lord Voldemort (they could say his name without fear now) had been defeated, thinking that he'd be gone after a year so he could go back to playing Quidditch with the Falmouth Falcons. Little had he known that the curse of the Defense teachers ended when Voldemort had died. He was forced to continue with his position as a professor because Falmouth was still rather annoyed that he'd caused them to be known as the "Foulmouth (censored)" after a particularly interesting fight he'd caused in a drunken rage. This had gotten him kicked off the team, and, out of options for a livelihood (nobody would take him), he had to take the cursed position at Hogwarts. Which, like I said, was no longer cursed. As the only Slytherin teacher there, he was forced to become Head of that house.

Next to Higgs sat Professor Vector, who actually did attend Sortings but was never noticed. On the other side of Vector stood Filch on the end, glowering at the students.

Quick zoom back to our starting point. To Clearwater's left sat the Muggle Studies teacher, Maurice Greenley. You've never heard of him. He had been teaching for nearly twenty years, and after McGonagall became Headmistress, he had become Head of Gryffindor. If you really want a description, he's basically Arthur Weasley with black hair and wider eyes.

On Greenley's left sat the Potions teacher. Verity Jigger had assisted the Weasleys in their joke shop and, before leaving them to teach at Hogwarts, had given them many helpful tips on antidotes to their various items. She had clearly learned much from her grandfather, who, as you probably guessed, wrote _Magical Drafts and Potions_, the beginning Potions textbook for Hogwarts students.

Binns hovered above a chair to Jigger's left. Though he couldn't eat a bite, he had come to watch a Sorting for the first time in about twenty-five years. The last time, it had been because his great-granddaughter was being sorted; now she was grown up and had a first-year student of her own. But we'll get to her eventually.

The Runes teacher, the only one who had ever been even mildly interested in what Binns had to say, sat next to her friend. Rosetta Futhar currently was keeping tallies on the students being sorted, frowning at the pattern of Slytherins. Three females and one male. No other houses. That was bizarre.

And on the far left was an empty chair, which Professor McGonagall was anxious to fill. But for that to happen, our sorting must continue.


	6. The First Non Slytherin!

_Oops! I've changed Aubrey's last name, because I realized I'd put her alphabetically after the one in this chapter._

_A note about the phrase "blood traitor": I have not found a satisfactory definition of it. From the way JKR uses it (the Weasley family is both pureblood and full of blood traitors), I'm guessing it means a pureblood or mostly pure wizard who still likes Muggles. So that's how I'm using it._

_Disclaimer: Not mine._

"Okay, I'm fine, Professor!" the Hat called from Lorelei's head, the folds in his cloth that constructed his face relaxing into a state of Small World-induced euphoria. McGonagall plucked him off her head and brought him back to the front of the Great Hall. "Now don't forget your promise," she hissed, attempting to smother her evil grin. The Hat, blissfully oblivious, nodded as the Headmistress cleared her throat (the noise in the Hall died down) and unraveled her parchment.

"Greta Bulstrode!"

The Hat's beatific expression contorted into one of outraged disbelief. "OH, COME ON!" he cried, earning the stares of every student and every teacher in the room. McGonagall, no longer a teacher but the Headmistress, was excluded from this, and she instead smiled and cheerfully said, "You promised, Hat!"

"Just for that, I'll make her a Gryffindor," the Hat muttered. Then McGonagall placed him on Greta's head.

_Hat, what in Merlin's name is that horrible song?_

_"Oh!"_ He'd become so accustomed to the tune while on Lori's head for the second time that, like a Flintstones band-aid over a paper cut (a very deep mental paper cut in this case), he'd nearly forgotten that he still had it until she'd brought it up again. _"It's called 'Small World'. Another student got it stuck in my head."_

Greta flared her nostrils derisively. _Must be a Muggle thing,_ she thought snidely, _brought in by some mudblood or blood-traitor._

If the Hat had glands, he would be sweating. He glared at McGonagall, who gave him that nefarious grin and an exaggeratedly encouraging wave.

_"Well, moving on..."_ The Hat cast about for some sorting criteria. _"Do you like to read?"_

_No. The last thing I read was an essay called "The Fall of Magic After the Fall of the Dark Lord"._

The Hat grimaced. _"I'm sure that was very educational. So what do you do for fun?"_

_Me and my friends--_ **Definitely** not a Ravenclaw-- _get together and play pranks on Muggles._ There went any possibility of Hufflepuff, too.

Huh. You learn something new every day, and the Hat learned at that moment that he did not, in fact, need glands to sweat.

_"So...tell me about one of your adventures with them!" _he requested desperately. He could, of course, extract the memories from her mind himself, but as an impartial Hat he knew his interpretation of these "adventures" would differ wildly from her view of them. If she was like others in her family, she probably thought herself a hero every time she hexed an innocent Muggle.

She willingly obliged. _Well, this past Monday, we'd just turned Culan Ogden's hair pink, as a prank-- _(that poor boy clearly had not had a good week) _--and we were teasing him about his candy floss hair, when this Muggle four-year-old rode by on some metal Muggle thing that looked like a bicycle, but with three wheels, and he started calling him things like "fairy"._

_Now, the Ogdens may be blood traitors--they think there's something wrong with breaking the occasional Muggle arm!--but they're still purebloods, and we couldn't have some uppity Muggle kid thinking he could insult one of us, even if he's too ignorant to know we're wizards. So I transfigured his weird bike-thing into a tiger._

_"Did you really?" _asked the Hat, impressed in spite of himself._ "That's advanced magic."_

The girl shrugged, not caring. _I bought the trick at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. They sell these little boxes of powder, you throw a handful on something and it transfigures it into a random animal._

_"Ah."_ The Hat was disappointed. Honestly, couldn't she have one redeeming feature?

Then Greta scowled. The Hat couldn't see it, of course (being on her head), but he could feel it in her mind. _But then we lost control of the tiger, and it was trying to attack all of us. The kid managed to jump off, screaming, but I guess we were bigger and better bait. Everyone panicked and tried to run, but we realized it could run a lot faster than we could. So I had to stop, and when it got within a few feet of me and tried to pounce, I threw another handful of Shape-Shift Sand on the tiger, and it turned into a pit bull. Luckily, by this point it was a rather confused pit bull, so I managed to throw another handful on it before it got its bearings, and it turned into a rabbit._

The Hat brightened. _"That was quite brave of you!" _he accoladed.

_I was more scared when my parents found out. But I'm even more scared that you've successfully gotten some lame Muggle song stuck in my head._

The Hat chose to ignore that last sentence. _"You faced a tiger yourself, armed with only unpredictable magic and hope? That sounds quite brave to me! How would you like to be a Gryffindor?"_

A moment of silence. (Or as much silence as there could be while "Small World" was still playing in the depths of both minds.) Then--

_What the bloody hell? You made all those people Slytherins and not me?_

The Hat grinned cheerfully. Two birds with one stone--he could get his revenge on McGonagall (even though she was no longer head of Gryffindor, she was still blazingly loyal) and keep his promise to her at the same time.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

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_I'm developing an algorithm based on the number of reviews I get to say within how long I will update. The more reviews, the sooner I'll update!  
_


	7. Hero Worship

_This chapter kinda sucks. Sorry about that. I was supposed to have finished it before the seventh book came out, hence the Hat cutting him off before he goes into detail about the seventh year._

Professor McGonagall and Greta both looked rather sulky after the Hat's announcement. _Serves you right,_ the Hat thought vindictively. With a slightly more furrowed brow, the Headmistress read the next name off the list. "Harry Potter Cadwallader!"

That was a rather catchy name. _"Haaarry Pot-ter Caaaad-wallad-er!"_ the Hat sang in his mind. It almost fit the chorus of "Small World", other than that last syllable. As a boy with shaggy black hair (was that cowlick formed with hair gel?) and glasses with thick, round frames approached the stool, the Hat pushed those words out of his head (you'd find it creepy if a Hat were on your head singing your name to the tune of "Small World") and replaced them with the actual words.

_What's that?_

_"Oh, that's a Muggle song one of your classmates got stuck in my head. It's from some place in Florida, Disneyworld. From what I've heard, it's really popular around the world."_

The boy pondered for a minute. _So...since it's a Muggle thing, do you think Harry Potter ever went there with his aunt and uncle?_

The Hat tried not to snort. _"How would I know? Well, probably not. They kept him in a cupboard--you really think they let him out to go ride roller coasters and say hi to random animated characters?"_

Harry shrugged. _Well, I don't know! Disneyworld could have been yet another adventure in his youth! He did have a lot of them, you know._ His eyes took on an adoring gaze, although the Hat couldn't really see it. _I mean, think about it! He'd already defeated Voldemort--it's so nice to be able to say his name now that we're no longer afraid--when he was just a baby. My parents named me after him when he was eight because they owed him their lives. Everyone owed him their lives. In his first year--in the second month of his first year, yet!--he beat up a troll that was attacking his friends. And then later he made it through that entire obstacle course that all the teachers set up to prevent Voldemort from getting to the Stone._

_"He did have help from his friends on those, you know," _the Hat reminded him, rolling his eyes.

_He didn't have help in his second year when he descended into the Chamber and rescued his girlfriend. Well, she wasn't his girlfriend until years later, but still. And then in his third year, he perfected the Patronus and fought off more dementors than most advanced wizards could. In his fourth year, he even had to duel with Voldemort! Not to mention getting past all the stuff in the Triwizard Tournament, although he had LOTS of help with that._

Heaving a sigh, the Hat attempted to stop him. _"Harry, I know all of this already. Could we--" _But the boy plowed ahead.

_Then in his fifth year, even facing that horrible Umbridge and the Ministry's bullying, he went to the Department of Ministries and fought the Death Eaters. That was when he became known in the wizarding community as the Chosen One. But it wasn't until his sixth year that he began collecting and destroying Horcruxes once Dumbledore--may he rest in peace--showed him his theories. That was when he truly began the fight against Voldemort, but it was a mere scratch on the surface compared to his seventh year, which was when he--_

_"HARRY!" _the Hat boomed in his head, finally causing the boy to lapse into silence. _"Do you honestly think I don't know this stuff? I may be only a hat, but I live in the Headmistress's office! I get all the information I need."_

_But you see, _Harry explained, _that's why I want to model my life after his! Such an amazing idol! _The Hat rolled his eyes, but refrained from saying the snarky comments forming in its mind.. _And if there is the slightest chance Harry Potter ever went to that Disneyworld place, then I need to know that song! Can you teach it to me?_

The boy. Was asking him. To TEACH him. That song.

Would wonders never cease?

_"Fine," _the Hat sighed, resigned to his fate. He sang the words quickly. _"Now if you wouldn't mind, let's get on with the sorting."_

Harry bounced in his seat, almost knocking the Hat off his head. _Watch it, kid. I get motion sickness. _Harry ignored this statement, cheerily proclaiming in his head, _I'm going to be a Gryffindor, just like Harry Potter! _He then proceeded to hum that blasted song.

Gritting his...er...okay, just know that the Hat was really, really annoyed by this point...he forced himself into a murderous calm. You know the type, when people are horribly ticked off and ready to blow a fuse, they get that horrible grimacing smile on their face and hiss rather than scream. In a sickly sweet voice appearing inside Harry's head, the Hat asked, _"Okay, so what brave things have you done lately?"_

Silence reigned in the boy's head, other than that ticking the Hat could detect as someone thinking hard. _Well...I...uh..._

_"If you're a true Gryffindor, it shouldn't be hard to think of a way your daring, nerve, and chivalry sets you apart from others."_

Then the boy's eyes lit up. _I know! Just last week, Greta and her gang were bullying my friend Eugene because he was showing me a tap dance he choreographed. So I stood up to them, told them to cut it out, because Eugene is a great guy.  
_

The Hat...nodded. Something like that. Perhaps he merely moved back and forth on Harry's head. _"I see. So you showed your kindness, sweetness, and loyalty."_

Harry nodded enthusiastically. _Exactly! I--_ His brow furrowed. _Wait a minute..._

"HUFFLEPUFF!"


End file.
